


A Night Out (With Sake)

by editingatwork



Series: Top Shelf [6]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: AU, Fluff, M/M, mention of sexual activities
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-27 01:42:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9944789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/editingatwork/pseuds/editingatwork
Summary: Sushi, sake, and a swing set.





	

Alexei takes Kent out for sushi because Kent’s never been.

“I’ve had takeout sushi before, at my friend’s place,” Kent had said, when asked his opinion on it. “It’s not bad.”

“Takeout,” Alexei had repeated, and then shaken his head. “Is good, but not same as real Japanese restaurant sushi.”

“Raw fish on rice, what’s different?”

Kent is, at present, learning exactly what’s different.

“Here,” Alexei says, and delicately picks up a slice of a salmon-avocado roll with his chopsticks. He holds the morsel across the table, inches from Kent’s lips. “Has little taste of lemon. I think you like.”

They’re in a private alcove, seated on opposite sides of a low table with only flat mats to sit on. The floor is tatami and their shoes are in cubbyholes outside the dining space. There’s a button to call their server, and Kent can hear other people talking and laughing in other alcoves throughout the restaurant, but it’s all muffled through layers of wood and insulation.

Five plates of sushi are spread on the table between them. Alexei has been feeding selections off them to Kent since the server left ten minutes ago. Kent can use chopsticks but why the hell would he bother? There’s a self-satisfied smile on Alexei’s face that grows every time Kent opens his mouth and lets Alexei rest the sushi on his tongue.

Kent chews the salmon-avocado roll thoughtfully. “Yeah, I taste the lemon. Goes well with the fish.”

“I make connoisseur of you yet,” Alexei says, and takes a roll for himself to eat. His shirt sleeves are rolled up and his tie is gone, plus he’s undone the top two buttons of his shirt. His suit jacket is on a hanger behind him and his three hundred dollar Tag Heuer watch is on the table at his elbow. His hair is coming loose of the product he worked into it that morning. Kent’s never seen Alexei all made up for the office, only how the seams of that persona come undone at the end of the day.

Kent is still in his work slacks and has his tie on. Alexei had picked Kent up from work—had parked his sleek, red Tesla outside on the curb and texted Kent from the front seat. When Kent had slid in and closed the door, Alexei had curled his hand around the back of Kent’s head and guided him into a slow, sexy kiss with enough tongue to make Kent’s pants tight.

“This car is really quiet,” Kent had said five minutes later when they’d been driving for a bit and he’d regained his senses.

“Is electric.”

“What’s something like that go for?”

“This model, seventy thousand.”

“That’s not bad. Uh, speaking of cars, you know mine’s still in the parking garage across from my building, right?”

“I know. We come back for it later, is okay?”

“Yeah, it’s fine.” The garage was open twenty-four hours. Another few bucks on his ticket wouldn’t kill him.

Moreover, those few bucks were buying him this entire evening. Kent pours himself more expensive sake and takes a good sip. The burn as he swallows is soft, not sharp, the taste heavy and acidic.

Another sushi piece appears in front of him.

“Here. Plain tuna, is good with sake.”

The fish is savory, the rice a bit sweet with vinegar. The flavors melt on Kent’s tongue. He makes a throaty noise of enjoyment as he swallows.

“Is good?”

Kent grins. Alexei’s eyes are so interested in his mouth. “You tell me,” Kent says. He puts a slice of tuna roll half in his mouth and gets up on his knees to lean across the table.

“That is  _not_  how you treat good sushi,” is what Alexei says, but the crinkling of his eyes betrays his amusement. He catches Kent’s tie in one hand and reels him in, until Kent’s got two hands on the table and is stretched all the way over it. Only then does Alexei crane upwards to bite off the protruding bit of rice and  _nori._ His lips brush Kent’s. Kent feels Alexei’s mouth moving as Alexei chews and swallows.

“Is very good,” Alexei agrees, and the way he says it—deep and rough and  _oh_ —makes Kent think he’s about to get ravaged on the table. But Alexei just pecks him on the mouth and releases Kent’s tie. “You want try crab next?”

Kent chuckles and slides back down into his seat. “Sure.”

When they leave an hour later, Kent’s head is pleasantly swimming and his stomach feels just this side of too full.

“You have red cheeks,  _ptichka_ ,” Alexei teases once they’re out on the sidewalk. It’s almost deserted, with just streetlamps to show the way. The sky is dark and lit with stars. “Maybe you need time to walk off sake.”

“I’m gonna need a week to walk off that  _meal_ ,” Kent says. “Fuck me, that was good. I’m never eating takeout shit again.”

Alexei chuckles and guides him along with a hand at his back. “Takeout not shit. Just not as good as Akabe.”

It takes Kent a moment to identify that as the name as the restaurant. Then he laughs. “Babe, I might be drunk.”

Alexei laughs, too, and moves his arm to cover Kent’s shoulders. “So, we walk.”

“You have the best ideas.” Kent gropes until he gets his own arm around Alexei’s waist. It’s cool out but he’s got his suit jacket back on, and the warm weight of Alexei both around and against him. It’s a great night for a walk.

This part of the city is full of more bikes and pedestrians than cars. Now, it’s mostly just empty and closed up, with only a few determined restaurants or late-night bars throwing light onto the narrow streets. They walk, wrapped up in each other, and there’s no one around to mind. It’s not the first time they’ve gone out for food—the third time, actually—but it is the first time they’ve strolled down a street as a pair.

Kent enjoys the hell out of it.

They talk little. They turn down a side street and go through a residential area full of thin houses and low apartment complexes. Then they pass by a park, and Kent stops in his tracks when he sees a swing set.

“Babe. Babe, look!” Kent points vaguely and wiggles out from under Alexei’s arm. “Come on, we gotta swing!” If Alexei tries to call him back, he doesn’t hear it. He dodges a see-saw and almost falls onto the swing set, grabbing the chain link of one swing to hold himself up. He plops down into the seat. “Come push me!”

Alexei walks over, shrugging off his jacket and setting it on a nearby bench. He’s shaking his head and laughing. “You’re such child.” Getting behind Kent, he puts both hands on Kent’s back and says, “Not too high. You still tipsy, might fall off.”

Kent drops his head back so he can look at Alexei upside-down. “You’d catch me.”

Alexei’s smile goes soft. “I would. Are you ready?” At Kent’s nod, Alexei gives him a push.

It’s probably the sake that makes swinging in a darkened playground so much fun. Kent laughs and kicks his legs as he goes, telling Alexei, “Higher!” even though he knows it’s not going to happen. The motion is giving him a bit of vertigo, though not enough to make him fall. Every time he swings back, Alexei’s hands find him again, broad and warm and reassuring.

Eventually, Kent decides he’s had enough and stabs his feet at the ground to make himself stop. The gravel is probably not good for his oxfords, but they do slow him down. Kent hops off the swing. “Your turn.”

Alexei opens his mouth, halfway to objecting, but then his eyes find Kent’s smile and he stops. Smiles back. “Okay.” He gets on the swing, and Kent gets behind him.

“Not too high, Kent.”

“Got it. No space cadet Alexei.” Kent ducks to kiss the back of Alexei’s neck, since it’s there. “You know how to do this, right?”

Alexei snorts. “We are have swings in Russia,  _ptichka.”_  

“What’s that mean?” Kent asks, and gives Alexei a gentle push. There’s a lot of Alexei to push. Kent’s always loved these little reminders of Alexei’s size. “I think you called me that before.”

“ _Da_ , I did. Is cute way to say ‘bird.’ Is like... pet name. Do you mind?”

“Of course not. How do you say it again?”

“ _Ptichka.”_

 _“_ Peach-ka.”

“Close enough.” Alexei slows his swing and reaches out to tap the one next to him. “Swing with me,  _ptichka_.”

“Peech-ka,” Kent tries again, and gets on the swing. The night air and the exertion of swinging and then pushing Alexei is helping him work off the sake. He kicks off the ground and joins Alexei as a human pendulum. They’re out of sync but only just. Kent says, “Teach me more Russian.”

“Okay.” Alexei thinks for a moment. “Этот мужчина платит за всё.”

It sounds like word salad. “What’s that mean?”

“Repeat, first.  _Etot muzhchina platnt za Vsyo_.” He draws it out slowly, and then says each word individually, after which Kent repeats it.

“Etot, mu-mushina plat Vsyo.”

“ _Etot muzhchina.”_

“Etot muzhchina.”

_“Platnt za Vsyo.”_

"Platnt za Vsyo.”

_“Etot muzhchina platnt za Vsyo.”_

_“Etot muzhchina platnt za Vsyo.”_

Alexei applauds. “You very fast learner.”

“Bet my accent is terrible, though.”

“Beginner accent for any language always is terrible,” Alexei says.

“So, what’s it mean?”

Wearing the biggest grin, Alexei says, “Means, ‘This gentleman will pay for everything.’”

Kent gapes at him, and then starts laughing. “Oh my fucking god, Alexei.”

“Is very useful phrase, I think.”

“Oh my fucking god.” Kent has to stop swinging so he doesn’t fall off while laughing. “ _Etot muzhchina platnt za Vsyo.”_

“Yes.” Alexei stops swinging, too. “Of course, only useful if establishment is Russian.”

Kent snorts, still amused. “Guess I know where we’re going to eat next.”

Alexei shrugs. “If you like.”

Despite the obvious pleasure Alexei’s taken from pampering Kent in these last several months, Kent feels obligated to say, “You know I don’t  _expect_  you to pay for me all the time, right? I don’t mind, God no. But it’s not... um. It’s not a whatever-you-call-it, for us hooking up.” He waves his hand. “There’s a word for it, help me here.”

“Of us two,  _you_  are native English speaker,” Alexei replies, and then adds, “Do you mean ‘stipulation’?”

Kent snaps his fingers. Trust Alexei to know English words having to do with contracts and other such legal agreements. “Yes. It’s not a stipulation. I’m not fucking you for your money.”

Alexei chuckles wryly. “I know. You are fucking me for my ass.”

“It is a really superior ass.”

“You treat it very well.”

Alexei’s giving him bedroom eyes. Kent reaches over and clumsily swats his arm. “You missed your chance fucking me over the table at the restaurant. I’m not fingering you in a park.”

“We find nice bush. I’m be quiet.”

Kent swats him again. “Who are you, and what happened to the guy who stared me down after I suggested fucking in the men’s room at a wedding?”

“I am same guy. Just hungrier, more I’m with you.”

Kent looks at that soft smile and the pull of Alexei’s pants over his thighs and his crotch. “Babe, I’m too inebriated to turn you down right now, and I  _know_  you don’t wanna be arrested for public indecency. I’m feeling  _just_  stupid enough right now to blow you on the swings, so if you don’t want that in the headlines tomorrow...”

 This warning is met with laughter, and then Alexei is getting out of his swing and holding out a hand for Kent. “So let’s go home,  _ptichka_ , and you do as many nasty things to me as you’re like.”

Kent grabs the offered hand and lets Alexei haul him to his feet. “Babe, you have  _the_ best ideas.”

“I know. Is because  _I_  am best.”

“Fuck yeah, you are.”

Alexei retrieves his jacket and pulls it on. As they leave the park, he puts his arm back around Kent, as easily as if he’d never let go. “You are best too, you know.”

The warmth Kent feels right then has nothing to do with the sake.

**Author's Note:**

> this was both fun and a pain in the ass to get through, i don't know why. writing is weird.  
> i'm on [tumblr](http://punmasterkentparson.tumblr.com/), join my trash heap.


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